


Scofield's Shadow

by serafina20



Category: Prison Break
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6296488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Michael Scofield learned to live with his new shadow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set during season 3 of Prison Break.

Michael fled the ring that had been penning him in, the shouts of bloodthirsty men ringing in his ears. Blood thundered through his veins and his head spun, the image of Alex brutally killing Michael’s opponent replaying in his head. 

He wanted out. Out of the ring, out of Sona, out of Panama, just out. Out before the inevitable happened and Michael was killed.

For now, he just ran. Off the yard and into the bowels of the prison, hoping that if he moved fast enough, he’d escape Lechero’s wrath. Oh, it wasn’t a permanent solution; the man wanted Michael dead. He’d already proven that he’d break his own rules to get the job done. For now, at least, Alex had subverted his plans. For now, Michael would keep his life for a little while longer.

The prison was a labyrinth, twisting and turning every which way. He ran, past the cells, past crowded rooms. He ran until he found a dead end, almost slamming into it in his haste.

A hand touched him on the back.

Michael leapt into the air, twisting.

“Woah,” Alex said, hands up. “Calm down, Michael. You’re safe now.”

He pulled back, pressing his body against the wall, cringing away from Alex. “Am I?”

Alex looked at him a moment before letting out a snort. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that. You didn’t have to kill him.”

“Yes, Michael, I did. Christ, you cannot still be so naive as to think both of you were getting out of that fight alive.”

“You told me to go for the kneecap. To take him out of commission.”

He swiped at his forehead. “Because I knew the game was going to be rigged. The minute it looked like you had the upper hand, Lechero was going to break the rules somehow.”

“And then you’d swoop in.”

Alex spread his hands and cocked his head.

Michael closed his eyes. Scrubbed at his face with both his hands. “I don’t need you to watch my back.”

“Obviously I do. I don’t know what you did to piss Lechero off…”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You don’t have to do anything to piss people off, Michael!” He grabbed Michael’s chin and squeezed. “It’s that Goddamn smug smirk on your face. Pisses people right off. You come waltzing in here, looking like that, no wonder you painted a target on your back.”

Michael pushed Alex away from him. Looked away, panting and trying to catch his breath. 

“Like it or not, I am your shadow until I get a trial. They try to kill you, I kill them.”

“And it’s so easy for you to kill.”

“Thank God one of us can do it.” When Michael looked at him, Alex rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with me, boy. I do what I have to do…”

“Yeah, killing David and Haywire was so necessary. Like killing _my father_ was necessary!”

Alex grabbed Michael by the throat and pushed him against the wall. “Don’t act like you don’t understand the Company,” he growled in Michael’s ear. “You did what you had to do for your family, and I did what I had to do.”

“I didn’t…”

“You let T-Bag loose. All those people he murdered are on your head and don’t pretend that they aren’t.” He let go of Michael’s throat, but didn’t move away. One hand gripped Michael’s wrist, the other rested against the wall. “For you information, I tried to get out. After Kellerman shot me, I handed in my resignation. And you know what they did?”

“I don’t…”

His hand tightened around Michael’s wrist. “They ran down my five year old son in the street like a dog.”

Michael closed his mouth. Swallowed. Unbidden, the image rose in his mind. The thud of the body rang in his ears. 

Alex’s mouth quirked at the edges. “You know what they’re like. They framed your brother. They killed LJ’s mother and framed him for it. So tell me, Saint Michael, how much of a choice to you really think I had?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Because he knew Alex had never had a choice. Deep down, he’d always understood, and it’d become more and more clear on the run how much power the Company had. How everyone at its mercy was fated to stay at its mercy.

And yet… He couldn’t forgive Alex. Not for his father. Not for David. Not for killing _everyone_ … everyone but T-Bag.

He couldn’t forgive Alex for not cleaning up Michael’s mess.

Like he did today.

He let out a long breath. The tension that had been wracking his body faded slightly, shoulders softening, stomach untwisting. “It’s not going to matter. What I say. To a jury or a judge. They won’t believe me. They’ll think you coerced me somehow.”

“Let me worry about that.” He was shaking. Michael could feel the tremors in his body, where it pressed against Michael. In his hand, where it gripped Michael’s arm.

“I’m not going to survive long enough to testify anywhere.” He said it softy, like a confession. A secret that he hadn’t been able to admit before now.

Alex leaned closer, bringing their heads together, mouths inches apart. “Let me worry about that.”

This time, the tremor went through Michael, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from lowering to Alex’s mouth.

A predatory smile crossed Alex’s face. He pressed, briefly, against Michael’s body, then stepped back, letting Michael go. “Try to stay out of trouble for a few minutes.”

Michael watched as Alex walked away, hands twitching, body jerking. And he pressed himself against the wall, waiting for his legs to turn back from liquid to solid.


	2. Chapter 2

“That man,” Whistler said. “Why does he always watch you?”

Michael didn’t even have to follow Whistler’s gaze to know who he was talking about. Alex was at his post: sitting on the upper level looking down at him. Just as he’d done almost every moment since they’d been thrown into Sona.

Every moment save for when he’d abandoned his post and gone down into the sewers to find Whistler. When his observation of Michael had borne fruit, and he’d stumbled onto to the possibility of a way out of this hellhole.

He’d found Whistler, too. Almost as fast as Michael had. He was always, _always_ a half step behind Michael, practically stepping on his heels. One day, soon, he’d get ahead, and then what would Michael do?

Michael looked back down at the picture of Sara in his hands. “He thinks I can do something for him.”

“Oh?” Whistler drawled, all prurient intrigue. 

“Not that.” His mind flicked back to the day before, after the fight. And how his body had… had buzzed with Alex so near, had felt alive in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

He pushed it away. He was so good at pushing it away.

“He thinks I’m his way out of here.”

“What, like… he’s going to escape with us?”

“He doesn’t know about the escape.” Yet. “Right now, he thinks he can get a jury to buy that I set him up.”

Whistler snorted. “Why does he think that?”

Michael gave a half smile. “Because I did.” He looked up at Whistler. “He can’t figure out we’re escaping.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s dangerous. Because he’ll want in.” _Because I don’t think I’ll be able to keep him out_.

And, worse, _Because I’m not sure I can do it without him._

Alex was always a half step behind. But, sometimes, he managed to get a half step ahead. Michael only had a few days to pull off this escape. He was good, but he didn’t think he was that good. It’d taken months to plan Lincoln’s escape, and while this didn’t require nearly as much finesse, it was possible this was more than he could manage.

He might need someone who could think like him. More than that, he might need someone with Alex’s particular skill set. And, as much as he didn’t like the man, as much as he resented him for screwing everything up and getting Michael into this situation, setting Alex free wouldn’t be as much as a disaster as setting T-Bag had been. Alex was acceptable collateral damage.

But only if absolutely necessary. Until then, Alex was staying in his shadow.


	3. Chapter 3

“How have you been, Michael?”

Michael almost started when Alex appeared from out of a shadow directly in his path. He was wearing a little smirk on his face, unfazed by the ever more prominent tremors that were overtaking him.

He tried to brush past Alex, but Alex stepped in Michael’s path, stopping him. “You know, it’s interesting how you don’t seem at all rattled by our current accommodations.”

_The way you should be_ was left unspoken, but hung in the air between them. Because they both knew that Sona should be Michael’s personal hell. Dirty, wild, violent. Too much stimuli and nowhere to hide. By all rights, Michael should be overwhelmed, needing something—or someone—to help him block it all out. Keep it in check.

Of course, Michael did have something to preoccupy him. Sara, LJ, and the escape took every bit of his attention. The violence seeped in some, but was muted in the stress of figuring out how to break out of this place.

But Alex didn’t know that.

He stepped closer to Michael, daring him to give way.

Michael refused to budge.

“Could it be because maybe you're not planning on being here much longer?”

It took everything Michael had not to groan. It’d been less than three hours since his conversation with Whistler, and here Alex was. Already unraveling the whole damn mess.

“I told you before, Alex…”

“Don’t start with me. I’ve had a lot of time to think. The Company sure wanted you down here bad. Not just in Panama. In this area specifically. They wanted you here. Why? And why would you take such an interest in another inmate? And why is he so interested in you?”

“I saved his…”

“But _why_ did you save his life, Michael? You don’t do anything unless it’s to benefit you somehow. So, the question becomes, how does saving Whistler benefit you?” His eyes were fever bright as they bore into Michael’s. “They were so insistent that I kill you. You knew too much about the Company. Kill you. Kill your cellmate. Kill anyone you ever so much as glanced at. And then, at the final yard, they changed their play. They wanted you set up and thrown into Sona.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Why? Why Sona? What special skills could you possibly have that might make you valuable to them?” He reached out and trailed a finger down Michael’s arm, tracing the tattoo covered by Michael’s long sleeves.

Half step behind. Beginning to overtake him.

Michael swallowed, forcing down the uncomfortable fluttering in his stomach. He could not afford to have Alex screw things up now. “Sounds like somebody is in desperate need of their medication, Alex,” he said. “You’re beginning to sound unhinged.”

Alex just smiled. “I wasn’t sure until Whistler came to me. Yesterday, I tried to trade him for my freedom. Today, he’s cozying up, like we were best buddies. And he was asking all kinds of questions about you. You know what I told him?”

“I can only imagine.”

Alex’s hand clamped around his wrist. “I told him that you’d do anything for those you care about, but you will screw over anyone else. And right now, Michael, I’m feeling kind of screwed.”

“What, exactly, do you think I owe you?” he demanded. 

“I saved your life.”

“I didn’t ask you…”

Alex pushed into Michael’s space, face inches from his. Michael stumbled back a few steps, skin buzzing, body coming alive.

“I saved your life, Michael.”

“You did it because you think I can get you out of here. But I can’t.”

“What do they have on you? Let me guess: they have someone you love. Your brother?” He shook his head. “No. He’s been coming to visit you. So who’s left? Who does Michael Scofield care enough about that he’d bend the world for?” A furrow appeared between his brows. “Sara? LJ?”

Panic hitched at the back of his throat at the thought of the woman he loved in the hands of the Company. In the hands of the monsters who had mowed down a five year old child to keep the man in front of him in line.

He had three days. 

“I don’t have time for this.” He yanked his arm out of Alex’s grip and stepped around him.

Alex grabbed Michael and spun him around. “Don’t think you can play games with me. I know you, Michael. I can read you like a book. And when you go over that wall or whatever it is you’re planning to do, I am going to be with you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Because don’t forget, Michael. I will do anything I have to. And if I have to, I will kill Whistler, and then what will the Company do to you?”

He stared at Alex, trying to determine if he was bluffing. He had to be. He _had_ to. Alex was ruthless, but he had to know that without Whistler…

“You think I care about Whistler?”

“I think you want to deliver the package.”

This time, it was Michael who stepped into Alex’s space. “You kill the package, I have no motivation.”

That actually seemed to take Alex aback. Like he hadn’t considered the fact that if Whistler was dead, Michael lost his need to get out. Sara and LJ would be dead, and Michael, well. He might as well be.

“You’re not going to kill him, Alex.”

“And you’re not leaving me behind.”

They were at an impasse, and both of them knew it. And still, Michael stood there for a moment, body still crackling with electricity. Even drenched with sweat, his mind losing his edge due to withdrawal, he was still the most familiar person in here. And, not so deep down, he was really the only person that Michael trusted. What Alex wanted wasn’t exactly simple, but it was clear, as was what he was willing to do for it. Unlike that snake, T-Bag, Michael could anticipate Alex’s actions. They followed a set of rules. He was order, not chaos. 

The moment stretched on before Michael final stepped back, extracting his arm from Alex’s grip. “Be careful, Alex.”

“Back at you, Michael.” And then he stepped back, fading back into the shadows.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a calculated risk, trying to fool Alex. His mental state had deteriorated so much since coming to Sona, withdrawal hitting him so hard, Michael had thought he could do it. That he could sent Alex on a wild goose chase and keep him distracted enough that he wouldn’t noticed when Michael and Whistler made their escape.

But you can’t fool your shadow. And Alex, well. He hadn’t reacted well to the realization that Michael had been playing him.

Long after Alex and his shiv left Michael’s cell, Michael stood pressed against the wall, shaking. It had all happened so quickly he was still trying to process what had happened.

Alex, so calm and mellow after days of shaking apart at the seams. The shiv, planted inches from Michael’s face. Alex’s body, pressed against Michael’s, holding him in place.

The purr of his voice.

_”You are only breathing by my grace, Michael._

He’d never feared Alex before. Not like this.

_“I will put this piece of metal right in that very small space between your eyes. I will._

Not even at the border, when he’d had a gun on him and Lincoln, ready to kill them. It’d been tense, but not terrifying. 

_“And don’t think you can manipulate me like you did Sucre and Tweener and Haywire.”_

Of course, he’d never seen Alex out of control before. Close to the edge, yes. Desperate, definitely. But out of control?

He gasped, getting his first full breath since Alex had left.

He’d gotten stupid. Arrogant. He’d forgotten who’d he was dealing with. Just because Alex had been withdrawing from whatever did not make him a stupid man. Not that Sucre was a stupid man, but he was simple. What he wanted out of life was simple, and Michael had been able to manipulate him in order to get what he needed.

Michael manipulated everyone. Even Sara. In the beginning, he’d gone in there with the intent on getting her to like him. It hadn’t been until he’d caused the riot that he’d really noticed her. He’d gone to save her out of necessity, but he’d come out shaken by her determination and strength. Everything had changed after that. He’d still manipulated her, but he’d gotten caught up in his manipulations and fallen for her.

And now she was the captive of the Company.

And Michael was trapped with this impossible task.

_“I am going with you when you escape.”_

Michael swallowed hard and allowed himself to slide to the floor. It wasn’t like Alex was a dangerous man, not in the same way T-Bag was. Letting him out would not lead to a trail of bodies and regret. And, if he could get himself together, he might be an asset. Maybe.

There was no getting around this. Alex was coming with them. Michael wasn’t rid of him yet.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days became two and ten one and, suddenly, it was time. It was zero hour, time to break Whistler out of this hell hole with a plan that relied on one guard having the sun in his eyes and the other being incapacitated. The plan involved getting through a de-electrified electric fence and a dash through a jungled patrolled by trigger happy soldiers. It involved trusting the Company to hold up their end of the bargain and trade Whistler for LJ.

And Michael had to do this alone because Alex had left that morning. He’d abandoned Michael to this stupid escape and now he had to pull off this impossible escape all on his own.

And Sara was dead.

Michael had already failed. Sara was dead and he couldn’t stop seeing her death in his mind. It’d superseded the thud of Cameron’s body or the sight of LJ’s terrified face in the elevator with Alex. The image fought with the one of LJ tied up and at the mercy of a mad woman.

Sara was dead.

Michael had made her fall in love with him. He’d researched every detail about her and planned it all out. What he’d say, how he’d act, what he’d do. He’d planned it all and had become a man she’d respond to favorably. He fooled her into loving someone who didn’t exist and now she was dead.

And it was all his fault.

He wanted to dissolve. To lay down and let the guild and shame eat him until he was nothing.

He wanted to become what he already felt himself to be.

And the only person in Sona who might possibly understand was gone. He’d walked through those doors and disappeared like the morning fog.

There was an empty space in Michael’s peripheral vision. It was distracting, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not with LJ’s life on the line.

(Would they kill him right away or draw it out and make him suffer when Michael failed his impossible task?)

It’d been easier before Alex. Before Michael had known of the place just inside his line of sight where Alex belonged. Before the man standing a few yards away had meant that Michael had a protector. That he belonged to someone.

Life had been easy when Michael had thought he was alone. Now that he was two…

At the worst moment of his life, Michael pushed Alex away and did what he always did: he focused on his plan.


	6. Chapter 6

The plan failed. All because of a few clouds, the plan failed. He and Whistler were still stuck inside Sona. 

And LJ was dead. The moment the clouds blocked the sun and Michael had ordered Whistler back into the prison, that was the only thing he could think. The alarm went off and they ran into the yard for count. The guards came in and shot a man who lived in the cell Michael had used for the escape, and it all passed Michael by because all he could see was LJ being killed.

He didn’t know how he was going to get beyond this. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. First Sara. Now LJ. The pain inside Michael was all consuming and he was ready to curl up and let it overtake him, when he saw Whistler talking to a strange woman in visitation. And then, suddenly, he was granted four more days.

Four more days to break out of Sona, and Whistler couldn’t wait one before he tried to catch a helicopter out. And when that plan failed, all the blame landed on Michael.

And Michael landed in a box, covered in plastic wrap, standing in the unforgiving Panamanian sun.

He’d been there a few hours when a car pulled up at the entrance. He watched, brain overheated, sweat drenching his body, and when Alex stepped out of the car, he was sure he was hallucinating. 

But their eyes were drawn together. When they met, electric shivers went down Michael’s spine. It was too real for it to be a hallucination. 

Alex was back.

Like a man desperate for water—which he was—Michael drank in the sight of Alex. Alex watched him, looking backwards, keeping eye contact, until the doors closed him off from view.

Alex was back. Neither of them belonged here, and Michael was stuck outside in a new hell, but maybe the world would make sense again now. If he ever got back inside, maybe now his head would be straight and little things like clouds wouldn’t disrupt his plans.

It almost made him smile to think how he just accepted the idea that Alex would be coming with them on this next escape attempt. But he needed a pair of eyes he trusted. He couldn’t trust Whistler, couldn’t trust Lechero, couldn’t trust the Company. Alex was the only one he understood, the only one who made sense. So, he automatically became part of the plan.

He’d get out this. And then, they’d get out. Somehow.


	7. Chapter 7

Like a movie, the sight of a ton of dirt and rocks falling on Sammy’s head kept replaying in Michael’s mind. He couldn’t stop seeing it. Neither could he stop seeing Sammy, dead by Michael’s machinations, lying on the ground.

And Whistler had scoffed at him, questioning Michael’s abilities as an engineer. Michael had just killed someone right before his eyes, and the man didn’t even know. Didn’t even question whether it had been deliberate or not. Just reacted out of anger and fear, lashing out.

_“For all the times you wanted me to prove I was a fisherman, I should have been asking if you were a real engineer.”_

Oh, Michael was a real engineer all right. All it had taken was one bolt, and the whole thing came tumbling down. 

He exhaled hard and squeezed his eyes shut. He’d been staring out at no man’s land for an hour now, not seeing it. Only seeing a rain of dirt and stone. For days, he’d been begging for relief from the image of Sara and now he had it.

Be careful what you wish for.

“Michael.”

He didn’t move when he heard Alex behind him. He held his breath, hoping… Maybe if he stood still enough, he’d turn into a rock. Become a part of Sona’s foundations, as hard and unfeeling as the prison itself.

He could hear Alex drawing the sheet over the front of the cell. Hear the shuffle of feet on the floor.

“I hate to say this, but you have to let it go, Michael. You did what you had to do.”

He let out a hard breath of a laugh.

“It was you or him.”

“You were there.” _You could have done it_ he doesn’t say.

A beat of silence. Then, “Yeah, well. I’m not so reliable right now. Backing me as your horse isn’t the right play.” He shuffled closer. “The point is, what’s done is done, and we’ve got work to do. Two days, you said. And there’s still LJ and Sara to think about.”

Michael inhaled sharply. “Sara’s dead.”

“What?”

He swallowed and forced his voice to be steady as he said, “They killed her. Before the first escape. Linc didn’t tell me, but they…”

“Jesus,” Alex swore. “Michael…” He put his hand on Michael’s shoulder.

Michael had thought about what he’d do when Alex found out. What he’d say to the man who’d once held Sara captive. He’d planned how he’d react. Knew it’d be with righteous fury. He didn’t want sympathy from this man. Didn’t want him to understand anything, and he didn’t want him to touch the memory of Sara.

Michael turned, ready for violence. Felt it boil under his skin, an itch he was dying to scratch. His fists clenched, body tensed.

“I’m sorry.”

The words hit him like a blow to the gut. He recoiled, all the air leaving his body. His eyes prickled and his heart pounded in his ears.

Blindly, he reached out, but for what, he wasn’t sure. His palms were out, pushing away, warding off, warning.

And then, Alex had his hands. Folded them in his own as he moved into Michael’s space. “I’m so sorry.”

“Alex…”

“For everything.”

And, then, suddenly, they were kissing. It started with a gentle brush of lip on lip, but it turned violent almost immediately. Bruising, biting kisses, ravaging each other’s mouths. Their bodies came together, Alex forcing Michael back until they hit the bunk.

Michael’s head spun as he gripped at Alex’s shirt. His tongue rubbed against Alex’s, hot and wet. His mind was blessedly empty, clear, too full of the sensation of teeth on his lips and hands grabbing at his body to think about Sara or Sammy.

“Please,” he gasped against Alex’s mouth.

Alex growled deep in his throat. He reached between them and undid their pants. Pushed them down until bare skin met bare skin. The hot length of Alex’s cock rested against his own where it strained upward, hard and throbbing. He rutted against Alex, one leg wrapping around Alex’s thigh, searching for better leverage.

With a hot exhale on Michael’s neck, Alex grabbed his ass. Squeezed and lifted him, thrusting. They panted into each other’s mouths, foreheads resting against each other. Shudders went through Michael's body as the heat spread from his cock, sending waves of sensation through him.

Alex reached between them and took both their cocks in hand. With strong, firm moments, he stroked, massaging them together. A white hot pressure built in Michael’s groin.

“Let go,” Alex whispered. He sucked on Michael’s ear lobe before pressing bruising kissing along the length of Michael’s neck.

Michael pressed into the strokes. His head fell back against the bunk and he watched Alex though half lidded eyes. Alex had his bottom lip caught between his own teeth, looking down, his gaze fixed on his hand as he stroked them both off.

He pressed his thumb against the head of Michael’s cock. Massaged it down before releasing. Did it again when it gone a moan from Michael. Then again.

Michael’s release took him by surprise. He came suddenly and silently, mouth falling open and eyes shut. 

Alex wrapped his arm to support Michael as he trembled through the aftershocks. He bit Michael’s neck, licking along the vein in the side as he came too.

He didn’t let go of Michael. In fact he pulled their pants up and then held Michael’s closer, mouth against his ear.

“I know what you’re thinking, Michael. I can’t stop it, but I know you. However your relationship with Sara began, in the end you both loved each other.”

Michael shook his head. “I got her killed.” The world around him blurred. Alex was the only clear thing.

“She chose to follow you. And I know that you’ve convinced yourself that she never loved you, the real you, and it was all a dream.”

“It was a con.”

“It wasn’t. Not in the end.” He stepped back. “It’s not going to help now, I know it. But remember that you loved her. That was real.”

“Did she know me?”

Alex gave him a half smile. “The only version of you Sara was ever going to love was the real you. And you knew that. And you gave it to her. She knew you.” He shrugged. “For what it’s worth.” He leaned in, kissed Michael’s tender lips softly, then stepped out of the cell into the growing shadows of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

Michael’s head pounded as he hung up from yet another phone call from Lincoln. He’d now officially talked on the phone today more than he had in the past three months. The impossible task of breaking out of Sona was made even more impossible by all the hoops they had to jump through to ensure they’d get LJ back. And now that half the prison was in on the break out—and how that kept happening, Michael didn’t know—he was having to plan twice as hard for half the gain.

“T-Bag’s still sowing discord among our fellow breakees,” Alex said, coming into the cell.

Michael sighed. “I’m not surprised.” He still couldn’t believe Whistler had invited T-Bag to join the escape. No, the man didn’t know T-Bag as anything but Lechero’s obsequious right hand, but that didn’t excuse it. Bad enough Lechero was coming along. But T-Bag… There was no way that Michael was going to let that animal out again. 

“You also don’t seem worried. He’s doing everything he can to convince the others that you’re planning on leaving them behind.”

“Well, he’s right.” He turned, tapping the phone against his palm. “I think I know how I’m doing it, too. It just relies on him being predictable.”

 “T-Bag? Predictable?” Alex raised his eyebrows.

“In this case, I think he may be.” He turned the phone over in his hands slowly, trying to picture how tonight would go. He’d tell them they had thirty seconds of darkness. T-Bag would do the calculation and figure that there wouldn’t be enough time for all of them to make it to the fence. He’d insist on going first. Lechero and Bellick would follow T-Bag’s lead.

It would be enough. They’d get caught, bringing trucks to the yard. Trucks the rest of them would use as cover just as soon as the guards dispersed. They could make it…

And, if T-Bag didn’t make the offer himself, Michael could find a way to make sure he did. It was just a matter of using the right words, and T-Bag would fall for it.

He looked up at Alex. “Just… whatever he does, make sure you do the opposite.”

“That sounds like my life’s motto.”

Michael almost smiled at that. He ducked his head and squeezed the phone. “Look, Alex. When we get out… when we get gone and out of danger, I need you to do something for me.”

He moved closer. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you leave.” He looked up, meeting Alex’s eyes. “Before we meet with the Company and make the switch, I need you to slip away and get out.”

“Michael…”

“Last time, they brought three body bags to the exchange. One for me, Linc, and LJ. We’ve done what we could to ensure our survival this time, but I can’t promise your safety.”

“It sounds like you could use me. I’m not a novice at subverting an enemy. And I’ve gone up against the Company before.”

“But did you win?”

“Ask the agent I buried out in the middle of the desert,” he said flatly. Then, his mouth quirked. “Anyway. It wasn’t the Company that brought me down, was it, Michael?”

Michael tilted his head in acknowledgement. “It’s not just the Company. It’s Linc. You killed his father, and he won’t forgive you for that. I don’t even know how I’m getting you off the beach. I will,” he said as Alex tried to say something. “It won’t do any of us any good if you’re caught before the rest of us are safe. I’m just saying, Lincoln’s out for blood when it comes to you, so just… just leave.”

Alex stepped into Michael’s space and bunched his shirt in his fists. “I don’t know if I can leave you before the job is done.”

“The job is done, Alex.” He gripped Alex by the wrists, meeting his eyes. “My job was to get you out. Your job was to make sure I survived long enough to get you out. In a few hours, we’re out. And then I… I won’t need you anymore.”

He let out a long breath lowered his head towards Michael’s until their foreheads rested together. “Right. You’re right.” For a moment, they just stood there, heads pressed together, eyes closed.

Michael tightened his hands around Alex’s wrists. Resisted the urge to step into him, pressing their bodies together. They were under a deadline and he didn’t have time to be distracted. Not by this. Not now. 

“Guess I got used to being in your shadow,” Alex said.

“Not as used as I got to your being there.”

Alex nodded. He moved in, bringing their mouths together.

Where the last time had been all teeth and violence, this was softness and tongue. This was gentle and slow, sending shivers down Michael’s spine. Alex’s tongue moved against his, slipping in and out of his mouth slowly, sensuously. His hand gripped the back of Michael’s neck, fingers massaging, pulling him closer, urging him in.

Michael felt like he was spiraling out of control. His knees turned to jelly and his stomach clenched and his head spun. He held on to Alex’s wrists for dear life, the only things keeping him upright.

Then Alex pulled away. It felt as if they’d been ripped apart and both of them gasped at the sudden lost.

“First chance I get,” Alex panted against Michael’s mouth, “I’ll slip away. Don’t worry about me.”

“I won’t,” Michael lied.

Alex gave him a hopeless facsimile of a smile. “And I won’t worry about you.” He ran his knuckles down Michael’s cheek and stepped back. For a moment, he stood as if on the brink of saying something. Then, he turned and disappeared into the labyrinth of Sona.


	9. Chapter 9

It was all over. The escape. The exchange. Whistler. Gretchen. All of it. Over.

And Michael was alone. It hurt, more than he thought it would. Lincoln abandoning him, staying in Panama with LJ and Sophia. Not that Michael blamed him for staying. He had his son for the first time in three years. He had a beautiful woman. He had the possibility of a life.

And Michael? Michael was a convict twice over. A wanted man in two countries. And what he was planning was insane. He was going after the Company by himself. He was going to fail. There was no possibility of success.

But he had to try. For Sara’s sake, he had to try.

He was now in Costa Rica, having driven the better part of the day without stopping. He’d driven until he’d hit his limit, until the stress of the past week caught up with him and forced him to stop. Not randomly, not wantonly. He was careful, driving past the border, choosing his exits carefully, not choosing the first hotel or even the third. But he was spent, done. All he wanted now was a hot shower and a soft bed.

He’d barely stepped into his motel room and toed off his shoes when there was a knock at his door.

Michael stared at it a moment, heart in his throat. With slow, deliberate movements, he picked up the gun he’d taken from Lincoln. Put his finger on the safety and hid it behind his back. Walked to the door.

“Yes?” he called.

“Michael? It’s Alex.”

Hand tightening around the gun, Michael cracked open the door.

Alex Mahone, a mirror of Michael’s exhaustion, stood on the other side.

“What are you doing here, Alex?”

“I got here about ten minutes before you did. The question is, what are you doing here?” His mouth quirked and he raised both hands. “It’s an hour from the border crossing. Three exits away from the city. Five turns from the highway. Fourth hotel on the street. Not too hidden, not too obvious. Seemed the perfect place to lay low. I’m alone.”

Alex was always a half step behind Michael, except when he was ahead. How could Michael ever had expected to outrun him?

He stepped back and allowed Alex to step in. “How did you get money?”

“Not honestly.” He moved past Michael and into the room. “Where’s Lincoln?”

“He stayed in Panama with LJ and Sophia.” He tucked the gun into the back of his pants and closed and bolted the door.

“Whistler’s girlfriend?”

He rolled his eyes. “Not anymore. Turns out, there were never any coordinates. She wasn’t happy to hear that he’s been lying the whole time. And she got shot.”

“She okay?”

He nodded.

“Why did you leave?”

“Couldn’t exactly stay in the country where I’m a wanted man.” He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides. Me and the Company have unfinished business.”

Alex laughed and shook his head. “You’re going to take on the Company? Michael, that’s crazy.”

“I know. But I have to.”

“You got a plan?”

Michael shook his head. “Not yet. But I will.”

Alex nodded, licking his bottom lip. He looked up and met Michael’s eyes. “Need a partner?”

Something inside his chest broke. A tension that had been building spilled out and his body slumped. Would Michael need his shadow? Had that ever been a question?

Michael nodded, stepping closer to Alex.

Alex smiled. He ran his hands up Michael’s arms and pulled him in. They came together, bodies flush heads resting together, breathing each other in.

“All right then,” Alex whispered against Michael’s hair. “Let’s take these bastards down.”


End file.
